


moonshine

by whoreforwonwoo



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24354427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoreforwonwoo/pseuds/whoreforwonwoo
Summary: the moon warms the sun
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	moonshine

Harsh words whispered with a tongue of silk; throat torn with beautiful melodies only a siren could sing. Two stars destined two burn, but never together. Two souls destined, but at what cost?

The sheets are rough on his freshly shaven skin, faint reminders of what is to come. Hands map out pale skin, trailing soft red lines in its path, another gentle reminder. Hands run through his hair pulling enough for it to make him forget, even if for a second. Mouths that clash create a magnificent taste, yet all they can taste is the bitter sweetness of reality.

Water falls down both their backs and into the drain, to never be thought about again, much like their nights together. A large hand cups his waist and gently squeezes him, a hint that the hot water will run out soon, a gesture he’s all too familiar with. Fresh towels burn his skin like the sheets did another attempt to burn this night on him, brand him. The hand returns to its favoured spot as the two begin walk back into the bedroom.

His body begins the usual routine, now muscle memory from how many times it has been repeated. Boxers, shirt, pants and socks, which usually are next to his pants. A soft sound leaves his throat, confused as to where said apparel has disappeared to, as he turns his head, his companion is holding the socks. A smile with pointy teeth that could make even the coldest of people warm at.

He stalks over to the man holding his socks, hand put out like a parent asking their child for something they shouldn’t have, which in another situation would make him laugh, but not now. A laugh is suppressed, but a smile graces his lips and the air is filled with a hint of playfulness. He watches as the tan boy slips the socks somewhere behind him, and his smile softens losing its boyish look but still keeps its warmth. His hands reach out to hold the owner of said socks, when the air shifts.

Tears sting his eyes as his ‘friends’ phone rings, the use of silly emoticons giving away who it is. He turns away and reaches for his shoes, socks forgotten, tears burning his eyes and face, pathetic, small sounds leaving him, like a kicked puppy. The handle is cold on his warm hand, tingles from his lover leaving them warm. The phone continues ringing, as though Mingyu wasn’t going to answer it, let it die. The sound of the lock clicking barely has time to resonate and echo through the room before Mingyu crowds him against the door, phone ringing out.

Big hands cover his face, wiping away the streams, lips kiss away stray tears, but not without a smile. The boy against the door is confused and hurt, not wanting to get his hopes up, attempts to leave him and his love behind. But he knows the memories are forever engrained into him and his skin, etched into his heart for eternity. The taller boy looks down upon his secret love, his best friend, comrade, his star. The person who although may seem cold, made him feel warm like the sun never had. Mingyu realised a while ago, that if someone makes you feel warmer than the sun itself, then you’re in to deep, but he is young, and so, so naïve. He’s blind to miss all of the signs the man in his arms showed him, his small smiles and gestures; his love. His warmth for Mingyu.  
He strokes away the shorter boy's' bangs, and takes in his sun; his smile lines, faint, like his laughter, his eyes that stare into you and take in everything, much like a cat. His sweet white skin, unblemished except for the tear tracks, which make his brown eyes sparkle and his light splattering’s of freckles stand out. As Mingyu looks into his eyes, he regrets using him, taking advantage of him because he was his best friend, but he doesn’t regret getting to know him in the ways only he does.

Lips graze his ear, and words smooth as butterfly’s milk float out and into existence, making his breath hitch, 

“Baby, you’ve earned it, and now I’m here forever.”

Wonwoo is a firm believer that once someone says something out loud, its spoken into existence, which in his eyes, is true. This causes his eyes to prick again, but with different reasons, years of feelings flow from his lips to Mingyu’s, fingers intertwining to never come apart, words of love whispered into the air, making it real.

The Moon may seem cold, but no one has ever seen the way the sun warms up when the moon passes.

**Author's Note:**

> I was sad when writing this and projecting  
> twitter is @whoreforwonwoo <33


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